


Unlikely Confidants

by Sira



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sira/pseuds/Sira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'A Cylon. A frakking Cylon. His only goal after the destruction of the colonies had been to destroy the enemy. Now, he was the enemy. Hades, he had no idea who he was.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unlikely Confidants

**Author's Note:**

> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> A thousand thanks to the wonderful ufp13 for betareading. 
> 
> This was written for one of my favourite authors ever, the amazing Shayenne. She was kind enough to bid on me in the last fandom aid auction. Thanks for your trust, dear.

“Who would have thought...?”

Saul Tigh didn’t turn around, continued staring ahead, the bottle in his hand half-empty. 

“Thought what?”

“You’re a Cylon. I’m dead. Or not. Who knows?”

Kara sat down beside him, grabbed the bottle. He watched her take a generous swig before she handed it back to him.

“You’re losing your touch, you know. There was a time you’d have thrown me into the brig for insubordination.”

“And your barbs lost their sting. What’s up, Starbuck? Does being a little dead or not make you lose your spunk?”

He laughed out, his voice rough from lack of use. Had he really been sitting here for so long, staring at the stars or rather a black void, hoping to see a star appearing in sight? Sharing the observation deck, the ship’s former number one make-out spot, with Kara Thrace... He laughed louder, sounding a little manic even to his own ears.

“Let me know when you’re done.”

It was the lack of emotion in Kara’s voice that had him stop. For the first time since she had entered, he took a good look at her. This wasn’t the same woman he had despised for being a brat, talented but insubordinate to the point of making him want to personally airlock her.   
They all had changed. Didn’t he know that all too well? A Cylon. A frakking Cylon. His only goal after the destruction of the colonies had been to destroy the enemy. Now, he was the enemy. Hades, he had no idea who he was.

He spit out.

“Didn’t your mother tell you how to behave in public?”

“Funny, Starbuck. And just in case you didn’t notice and hoped to meet with little Adama here, the place’s closed.”

There was no time for romance, not right now after the fleet had just thwarted a mutiny, the executions of Zarek and Gaeta having happened only a few hours ago.

He had never trusted Zarek, had wished him dead from the first time he had entered the picture, taking Lee Adama as hostage. After New Caprica, some people said Zarek had fought the Cylons, had worked for the people. If anyone asked him, though, Zarek hadn’t. Tom Zarek had followed his own agenda, had worked in favour of his own gain. 

Saul spit out again.

Felix Gaeta, though, there had been potential. His was a life wasted. If there had been one fault to this man, it was his gullibility, his faith in people working for the greater good. Only because he had tried to, others hadn’t. He hadn’t been able to see it, and now, the kid had had to pay the price.

“I’m not out to meet anyone.”

Kara’s voice brought him back from his reverie.

“What? Do you have enough of your husband and your side dish?”

“There aren’t many days I wouldn’t like to punch this ugly face of yours.”

Kara was all matter of fact. No fire, no ice. The person beside him was undoubtedly alive, but her spirit seemed dead. Saul hoped she would come around, wouldn’t be another one of those who died before their time, not like Gaeta, like Dee who had given up the fight the moment Earth turned out to be a pipe dream. 

They were dead, so many were, and he was still alive. Frak it, he had executed his own wife when it became clear she was collaborating with the Cylons. For his sake.

What irony. One would think his brothers and sisters had treated him better. Brothers and sisters? No, he wasn’t like them, not at all. 

It had to be some kind of perverted cosmic joke.

“What are you doing here then?” he asked, his fingers digging into this thigh so hard it hurt.   
He needed another drink, more than one, but he couldn’t. Trying to drink himself to death hadn’t helped with his guilt, his memories. Months ago, he had decided he was better than that, didn’t want to die that way. Would he even be dead, even if he wasn’t part of Cylon mass production? 

He didn’t have a frakking idea, and really, who would believe he could be all philosophical?

“What are you doing here?” he asked again, looked at Kara who stared ahead, lost in her own misery.

“Then do it for the old man,” he said when she remained silent.

Finally, Kara snapped back, faced him.

“What does he have to do with it?”

“He doesn’t let many people in. If you give up, it’ll break him. He can’t take any more blows.”  
His son was dead, the fences with the other never quite mended, Galactica wouldn’t survive forever, Roslin was dying. He couldn’t lose Kara as well.

“I don’t think he cares,” Kara said.

For a moment, she had sounded like a wounded kid, not the brat Saul had gotten to despise... and respect.

“Stop that bullshit, Starbuck. You know he does. Damn this old bastard and his sorry soul, but if it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t be here today. He saved my ass more than once, and don’t tell me he didn’t do the same for you.”

“He did. For Kara. Who knows who I am? What I am. If you hadn’t noticed, half of the crew thinks I’m dead anyway.” Kara snorted, her fingers clenching into a fist.

Saul got up, agitated now, looked down at Kara.

“You owe this man. So don’t angle for pity you won’t find here. Stand up straight and be what this fleet needs you to be, what the old man needs you to be, and if you can’t do it, then go and whine somewhere else.”

Now, Kara got to her feet as well, looked as if she was about to hit him for good. Well, she could try.

“Since when are you the one trying to boost people’s morale?”

Saul laughed out. “I’m boosting no one’s morale. But I’ve been there, Starbuck, stood on the same ledge you’re facing. Either you jump or you fight. Everyone needs a reason to fight, though. If it’s not Lee or Sam, then do it for the one who always believed in you.”

“I...”

“Dammit, Thrace. This man doesn’t care if you’re dead or not, if you’re ‘you’ or not, or better said if he did, he’d still love you. You’re alive, that’s all that counts.”

Kara looked down as if the answers to all of her problems were written on the ground. When she faced him again, there were unshed tears in her eyes.

“It’s these puppy dog eyes of his, I tell ya,” she said her voice close to breaking. She cleared her throat, hardening in front of his eyes. She took a deep breath, sat down again.   
After a moment, Saul followed suit.

“Puppy dog eyes?”

“Did you never notice the way the old man looks at you when he’s disappointed in you or wants something from you? Puppy dog eyes.”

Saul let out a gruff laugh.

“I never thought about it this way.”

“You should have. Just ask yourself how often you did something just because he gave you that look.”

Kara tried to make light of it, divert his attention from what was so obvious. She was lonely, scared, afraid of the future. When it came down to it, they were two sides of the same coin. No wonder they had never gotten along, would never get along. They were too much alike.  
Out of nowhere, he remembered New Caprica, a sunny morning when he was still whole, Ellen alive. It was just before Kara had run off and married Anders, not only making him but also Lee and Dee miserable in the long run. 

That morning, though, Starbuck and he had talked, he had given her advice. For once, they hadn’t behaved like cat and dog. Most likely it was thanks to the state of their hangovers, but who cared. Not that his advice had done her any good.

She had been on the road to destruction as had he. 

“Don’t you hate me?” he asked, looking at her, not wanting to miss her reaction.

“Hate you? Why should I? I guess you mean a hate that exceeds the usual ‘I want to punch you really bad?’”

“Don’t you hate me for being a Cylon?”

It was the first time he ever asked anyone who knew directly, found he was afraid of the answer. He would be damned if he took the question back, though. He had a backbone, at least when it counted.

To Kara’s credit, she didn’t make a quip, didn’t say the first thing coming to her mind. Instead, she studied him, her gaze intense in a way that made him want to flinch, to look away. He did neither, but he wasn’t comfortable. Finally, her scrutiny ended, and she turned her attention back to the big windows, granting them a view on the infinity of space. 

“No, I don’t. How could I? You didn’t want this, did you?”

“You’re kidding me, Thrace, aren’t you?”

“Hey, you asked what I’m thinking, not the other way round. So tell me, did you want any of this to happen, if only on a subconscious level? Are you happy with where we are now, with who we are?”

“Hades, no.”

“See, there you have your answer. You didn’t choose who you are, none of us did.”

He was silent for several beats, his mouth opening and closing.

“Thank you,” he finally said, the words harder to voice than they should have been. 

These were words he never had dreamed of uttering to this woman. 

“I don’t know if I’d even want to go back,” Kara said silently, “to life as it was before the... just before.”

“Me neither.”

He understood way too well. For many onboard Galactica, life on the colonies hadn’t held the appeal it should have. Starbuck had lost her fiancé, hadn’t had any family caring what happened to her. Lee Adama had lost his brother, had been estranged to his father, stuck in a job he didn’t want. Bill had lost a son, both of them, really, hadn’t had any family waiting for him when he had been on shore leave. He hadn’t even had many friends, and how could he? For as long as Saul had known him, Bill had spent more weeks onboard different vessels than he had home.

It hadn’t been different with him. Although there had been Ellen, the love of his life, as cliché as it sounded, he hadn’t hurried back to Caprica either. Whenever he had been with her, he had feared not being enough for her, had known he hadn’t been enough. Desperately wanting to be the man she had needed, the only man she had needed, he had known he could never have done right by her.

Beside him, Starbuck pulled out a cigar, wherever she had obtained it, lit it up. He was about to say something, when she reached inside her pant pocket again, offered him another one.

“Zarek hid these in his quarters.”

In that case... lighting his own cigar, he closed his eyes when the first calming waves of smoke filled his lungs. 

He knew people had used to look at him with wonder and pity in their eyes. Wonder why a woman like Ellen would want him, pity because they all had known Ellen had liked her flings. Damn, it wasn’t as if women had been lining up to be with him. Then, in spite of all of her quirks, he had understood Ellen, had loved her for who she had been. He still thought she had loved him the same way.

“Do you think we’ll find it? Earth? A place to settle?”

The girl was awfully full of question tonight. Since when was he the one to go to and ask them? In all fairness, who else was there to ask, though? The ships were crowded, still people were lonelier than they had ever been.

“Don’t know,” he said. “Does it matter?”

He wished something would matter to him. Something was keeping him here, from killing himself. He still waited to find out what it was.

“No, I... don’t think it does.” Kara shrugged.

Slowly, smoke began to fill the air around them.

“So, are you?” Saul asked.

“Am I what?”

“Dead. Are you Kara Thrace or just someone... something else?”

For a long moment, she just looked at him. Then a slow smile appeared on her face.

“Does it matter?”

“Touché. Ya know, it might matter to them, but it doesn’t to me.”

“Means you might be one of the few people I can trust after all. Ain’t that ironic?”

“Life’s been ironic for the last few years if you ask me. Yeah, I know, you don’t.”

They smoked their cigars in silence, and for the first time in a while, Saul’s thoughts were at rest. The feeling of peace, he had missed it.

 

“What’s in here?” he asked Kara, giving a pointed look at his cigar.

“Nothing. Must be my lovely company.”

“You’re full of shit, Thrace.”

“So? These things can kill you anyway.”

She was right. It didn’t matter. He had never given a flying frak about living healthy. Why start now? 

“What do you wish for?” he asked, realising he had never asked before, hadn’t even cared.  
She didn’t acknowledge the question, didn’t do as much as blink. However, he wasn’t in any hurry. 

“For it to be over. One way or the other,” she finally said.

She was as tired as they all were.

“We have to believe there’s a place for us out there.”

He looked outside. Right now, all he saw was the darkness of space, but he had seen the beauty of the universe. Among all these planets, there had to be one they could inhabit. Deep inside him, he had this faith. What happened to him didn’t matter, but there were the people, the fleet, looking for a home, a chance. He laughed out. Wasn’t he the last one to be suspected of being a believer? Even Roslin had given up all hope.

“You sure?”

Gods, he hated when she sounded so... young, vulnerable.

“Yes, I do. And I swear to you, Starbuck, I’ll kick your ass outta the next airlock if you don’t stop moping around right now. Let’s find a place to settle, then you can see about which boy to keep and if not... you’ll be dead and won’t care.”

“Have you always been such an asshole?”

Now, that sounded more like the Starbuck he knew.

He snorted. “How the hell am I supposed to know? It’s not as if I had a mommy to raise me.”  
All he had were false, implanted memories. One would think the Cylons would have given him better ones than the shitty past he remembered, the one that wasn’t entirely real.

What was real was his life onboard this ship, though, his friendship with Bill Adama, the love-hate relationship with the girl right next to him.

He got up.

“I have to go. Can’t have anyone stumble over us and draw the wrong conclusions.”  
To his surprise, Kara got up, stood up in front of him.

“You think it so unbelievable a woman could want you?”

Thankfully, she didn’t mention Ellen, the woman who had claimed to want him.

“I...”

He was shocked when she kissed him on the cheek, turned around and left.

“No one is walking out on me. And just for the record. I really don’t like you.”

“Likewise, Thrace.”

He stared after her for a long moment, was surprised when he realised he was smiling. Sitting back down, he looked outside once more. 

He just had to believe there was something out there for them and maybe, just maybe something for himself. He would never believe in the Gods, or one God, but he believed there was a reason for his existence. There had to be, and maybe he’d find out one day.  
Until then, he’d continue living, one day after the other. 

The End.


End file.
